


Beginning

by truethingsproved



Series: Talk revolution to me, baby. [16]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, Multi, chosen family shenanigans!, did you miss me you nERDS i missed you, end of summer shenanigans!, friendship shenanigans!, i love everyone in this fandom, sappy family shenanigans!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truethingsproved/pseuds/truethingsproved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Mary Kate’s last night here, before heading to Dartmouth for freshman orientation, and it’s their first night together again after almost two months of all being apart. Enjolras’ internship has been unbearably demanding; Grantaire spent a week in New York City with Mary Kate; Marius has been job-hunting and even visiting his grandfather; Feuilly has been working; Combeferre has been out on the west coast, looking at med schools; Eponine has been with her family. They’ve all been a thousand places but they’ve missed each other and now they’re home, where their family is.</p><p>Nothing else really counts for very much when they have that to consider.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginning

They come together again two weeks before the beginning of the new school year. It isn’t planned; everyone simply arrives at the apartment that Enjolras and Jehan share, because Enjolras has always been their focal point. One by one, they filter in—Bahorel first, with bags filled with groceries and demanding Mary Kate’s help in getting the food together. Feuilly’s at work, he explains, and he’ll be there as soon as he can. Marius arrives next, still dressed for his second interview with the law firm he’s looking to get an internship with. He actually hugs Enjolras, throws his arms around him tightly and holds for a long moment—Enjolras can only smile.

Then Eponine and Combeferre together, and Eponine flings herself at Enjolras almost immediately, as she’s wont to do, while Combeferre files into the kitchen the second he hears Mary Kate let out a seven-syllable string of expletives. Joly and Jehan are next, followed by Bossuet a few moments later. Bahorel comes in with Cosette a few minutes after that, Cosette’s hair tucked under a hat and sporting more freckles than anyone knows what to do with. She’s spent the summer with Dr. Valjean in France while he did research for a book he’s writing, and Marius practically knocks the sofa over in his rush to get to her.

When Feuilly and Musichetta arrive, they’ve pushed all the furniture in the living room against the walls and laid out the food on the coffee table and everyone takes a seat on the floor and a paper plate and helps themselves. It’s Mary Kate’s last night here, before heading to Dartmouth for freshman orientation, and it’s their first night together again after almost two months of all being apart. Enjolras’ internship has been unbearably demanding; Grantaire spent a week in New York City with Mary Kate; Marius has been job-hunting and even visiting his grandfather; Feuilly has been working; Combeferre has been out on the west coast, looking at med schools; Eponine has been with her family. They’ve all been a thousand places but they’ve missed each other and now they’re home, where their family is.

Nothing else really counts for very much when they have that to consider.

\------

It’s as solemn as a ritual. They don’t talk about anything important or exciting while they eat—instead, they exchange small talk. You look amazing, I love what you’ve done with your hair, which classes are you taking this semester? No; they’re saving the important things for when they’re done. The paper plates go into a trash bag, the leftover food gets packed up and thrown into the refrigerator, to be split up and taken home by everyone later on.

Once the living room’s been cleared out again, they light a few candles, put them on the coffee table and the windowsill and the top of the television and a few right in the center of their circle. They’re all sitting together, shoulder to shoulder, fourteen pairs of eyes glinting in the candlelight as they all turn to Enjolras for him to begin.

“We made it through another summer,” he says simply, “and we’re preparing for another year—junior year, it’s amazing. I don’t think any of us expected to be here, but here we are, and it’s kind of amazing. So, first, I think we should recognize that, and then I think we should all take a minute and reflect. Be honest with each other, because it’s easier to be honest with our friends sometimes than to be honest with ourselves. What have we accomplished so far, especially this summer, and what do we need to do this year?”

They did this last year as well. It had been messier, then, because they hadn’t done it before; the first time is always the most difficult. This year, it’s a little bit smoother, and as always, Enjolras leads the charge, with Courfeyrac jumping in next.

“This summer, I started looking into P vs NP,” he says helpfully, but no one knows what that _means,_ which leads to a seven-minute discourse on mathematics far beyond Enjolras’ understanding, and which ends with, “ _Anyway,_ I decided that someday I want to do that. So, I’ve got a goal—and this year, I’m going to start looking into PhD programs.”

“I finished the last of the hundred poems I was working on for my collection,” Jehan picks up, almost shyly; everyone cheers at that, to hear that a project he’s been working on for the past two years is coming to fruition. “And now, what I need to do is edit, and start sending it out to agents. I want to try and get it published.”

Marius beams, fiddling with his tie, his hands stilling only long enough to announce, “I got the internship!” Cosette takes his face in both hands and kisses him as hard as she can; Enjolras reaches around them, pushing himself forward to shove lightly at Marius’ shoulder once he’s been released. “It’s a good law firm. I think I might be able to make this internship last—right now, it’s mostly clerical work, but this could turn into something more, sooner rather than later, I hope. So that’s what I’m going to do this year. I’m going to make this last.”

It’s Cosette’s turn next—she takes her hat off before speaking, and everyone stops to stare at her in shock as long, thick curls fall down around her face and shoulders. Well, everyone except Grantaire, who is the only person unsurprised that her formerly golden curls are now a rich brown the same shade as milk chocolate. Even Marius is shocked, and they all suddenly realize that her eyebrows are darker than they remember them being.

She doesn’t seem to realize their shock until she looks up at twelve shocked faces and shrugs, a hair tie in her mouth as she pulls her hair back before tying it. “What?”

“What happened to the blonde?”

After a small pause, Cosette only shrugs. “This is my natural color,” she says slowly, and Courfeyrac claps both hands over his face and wails out loud, shaking his head violently back and forth.

“I need a break,” he laments, “because my entire life is a _lie,_ ” and that’s their first mistake.

\------

“You haven’t said it back?”

“Well, he hasn’t said it again, so I can’t really say it back when he hasn’t said it since the first time he said it. He might not have meant to say it when he said it, but he _said_ it, and now he can’t take that back, and maybe it was a reflex sort of thing. Like the time your dad and I were on the phone and I promised to bring you home before midnight and he said goodnight and I said _night, dad._ ”

Cosette frowns up at Grantaire, shivering before stepping forward. There is a moment of shuffling around and when they settle back down, leaning against the railing of the fire escape, Cosette has wrapped both arms around Grantaire as tightly as possible, and Grantaire has folded one arm around Cosette, his free hand holding a cigarette, while the two share a sweater. “I thought that was a deliberate acknowledgment of your abandonment issues and lack of a trustworthy father figure in your life,” she mutters, and Grantaire can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

“Well, yes, but it was also a reflex.”

“Because Papa acts like a dad.”

“Because Dr. Valjean is a dad.”

“Yeah. That’s my _point._ He acts like a dad, so you call him dad, because you associate him with—with dadness.”

“I don’t think dadness is a word, babe.”

“ _Whatever.”_

Grantaire puts his cigarette out against the railing and flicks it over the edge, pressing a kiss to Cosette’s hair before toying idly with it. “I really do like the brown,” he muses, and Cosette hums happily, nestling closer to him before letting out a comfortable sigh.

“I did the blonde for so long because my mother was blonde,” she confesses, and Grantaire steps back just enough to look at her directly, his hands curled around her face over her hair. “It made me look more like her. We have the same face—same eyes, too. But I have my father’s nose, I think, and my father’s mouth.”

“I like your nose. _And_ your mouth. Even if you’re wrong all the time.”

Cosette offers him a faint smile at that, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose in response. “I can’t keep trying to be my mother,” she says quietly, and Grantaire only nods, wrapping his arms around her again. She tucks her face against his neck and sighs, and they stand like that, comfortably, until they hear a very loud, very sudden _crash._

For a moment, they stand still, eyes wide and turning towards the window they climbed out of, and it’s only when they hear a frankly pitiful whine and someone shouting Marius’ name that they unwrap themselves from each other to practically fling themselves back inside.

That’s their second mistake.

\------

Mary Kate has been reading something on her phone on and off all night, eyebrows knit in confusion, lips parted in a small _oh_ as her clear bafflement becomes clearer and clearer with every passing moment. And she can’t be blamed, because this is fucking _confusing,_ and really, what is she supposed to do when she encounters the single most confusing sex scene she’s read in any fanfiction ever?

She’s been sitting on Jehan’s bed, cuddling the cats aggressively and reading, trying to make sense of this, since Courfeyrac ran into the bathroom shouting about unrealistic beauty standards being applied to him now that he needs to compete with Cosette for cutest brunette. That’s how Bahorel finds her, except at this point, she’s hanging upside down from Jehan’s bed, her phone barely an inch from her nose, red hair falling down and pooling on the floor while she lets out quiet sounds of confusion.

Like “ _how?”_ and _“no.”_ and, Bahorel’s favorite, _“that’s not how human bodies work._ ”

He taps his big toe very gently right at the center of her forehead, and she looks at his socks, first, then up at him. “Problem?” he asks, and Mary Kate only holds her phone up for him to look at.

It’s a sign of how used to Mary Kate everyone has gotten that Bahorel’s first question is not why she’s reading Neville/Harry fanfiction, or why it’s a cyborg AU, or even why she’s reading a sex scene involving motor oil as lube. And he’s not even confused as to whether or not cyborgs can orgasm, even though Mary Kate actually has an answer for that (from chapter six of the fic).

“I’ve read this one,” he says instead, sitting on the bed next to her. “This is the best chapter. Have you gotten to the part where Ron finds out that Hermione—?”

“—and Ginny were in the warehouse when Draco got resurrected? Yeah. That was great. What about when Ginny had to rappel down the side of the building using nothing but neckties and paperclips to make a grappling hook?”

“Most intense twelve minutes of my life,” Bahorel answers in a tone of sheer awe. “Anyway, you looked confused, and this part was pretty straightforward.”

“Yeah. I don’t think that’s physically possible. The twist-and-shout thing? I’ve been trying to work that out for a solid two days.”

“Really? I got it.”

“Show me.”

And Mary Kate is expecting Bahorel to draw her a diagram, or to make obscene gestures, or maybe just to get sock puppets, like the time he had to explain to Grantaire that the cats weren’t fighting, they were _mating,_ but instead Bahorel stands and gestures for her to do the same. So she does, and Bahorel sets her phone down and plants his feet squarely on the floor, knees bent, arms held out. “Jump on me,” he demands, and because all of Mary Kate’s elementary school teachers have consistently written on all of her report cards that Mary Kate excels at following directions when they’re directions she likes, and Bahorel is so pretty it physically hurts, Mary Kate takes a running leap at him.

Of course, he catches her, hands underneath her ass as she wraps her legs around him. “Right, so, Neville’s holding Harry like this when it starts—this is seriously one of the coolest things ever. I did this with my last girlfriend and she came so hard she _cried_ , and then she kept thanking me, but breaking up with her was really awkward. Like, when someone cries after sex, you’re supposed to stay with them, right? It feels mean not to.”

Mary Kate winces sympathetically, but nods. “Right. I got this. What I don’t understand is what happens after Neville’s language chip blitzes out and he starts speaking French.”

“ _Yeah._ Okay, that part was a little difficult. See, he has Harry like this, and then he’s sort of—sort of _bouncing_ Harry, if that makes sense? On his dick. His cyborg dick. His—”

“—cockborg?” Mary Kate offers helpfully, even though Bahorel is, quite literally, illustrating his point, moving her up and down against his hips while they chat about the proper penis euphemism.

“Yes, _exactly._ This is why I like you. Okay, so, they’re doing this, right? And then he sort of twirls Harry, like so—hold on, yeah? I swear I know what I’m doing, so don’t panic.” Bahorel stops speaking, waits until Mary Kate nods, and then clears his throat before nodding. “Unwrap your legs—yeah, and then he sort of spins him around— _careful,_ don’t move too much, I don’t want to drop you—and he’s holding him around his waist, spins him around until Harry’s facing the other way, and then—”

This is the part Mary Kate understands the least, but she never understands what’s happening, because she’s wearing shorts that stop mid-thigh and all anyone walking in can see is bare legs wrapped around Bahorel while she’s being held out in front of him like he’s about to throw her, and they’re standing in the dark, and she’s making a weird sort of grunting sound, and Bahorel’s holding her from behind and rocking his hips back and forth to try and explain what he’s talking about, and the door opens, and suddenly Joly is gasping and Jehan is clearing his throat and Bossuet is asking, very loudly, “Oh, my _god,_ are you having sex with Mary Kate?” so loudly that their explanations aren’t heard.

That’s their third mistake.

\------

Eponine is a lot of things, but she’s not particularly tall, which means that when she wants to reach something, she has to either ask her boyfriend for help or bully Enjolras into helping her. Which isn’t possible at the moment, because Combeferre and Enjolras are both busy trying to help Courfeyrac out of the bathroom, because Courfeyrac has locked himself in and doesn’t seem to know how to get back out, because the lock is stuck.

As much as Eponine adores her friends, they’re starting to give her a bit of a headache, what with all the shouting and the freaking out. And the ibuprofen is, understandably, in the bathroom, which is now something of a hazardous zone, given that Courfeyrac is now trying to very loudly dictate his will while Combeferre picks the lock to the bathroom and Enjolras tries to both comfort Courfeyrac and threaten him into silence so that they can get the door open without breaking his lock.

There’s a bit of ibuprofen in one of the cabinets, Eponine knows, leftover from the last time she crashed here and had to deal with a hangover while Enjolras and Grantaire were very loudly making up from a fight they’d had about Enjolras’ favorite tie, except it’s in the third cabinet from the left, the one with the broken middle shelves, and it’s on the _top shelf_ of the third cabinet from the left.

“Can you guys find Bahorel?” she asks, and Jehan, Joly, and Bossuet all nod, each heading in a different direction. The apartment isn’t particularly large, so there’s not much chance it’ll take very long, but Marius is smiling, trying to be helpful.

“I could just give you a lift if you want,” he offers, all freckles and smiles and messed red hair, and okay, so, Eponine’s a little bit weak when it comes to that smile. So she nods, lets him cup his hands, and puts one foot in his hand, her hands on his shoulders, while he lifts her up so she’ll be able to reach the shelf.

It’s a little wobbly at first, but not terribly, and he settles in comfortably, but then they realize that they’re standing at the wrong cabinet with a sort of terror. Because if Marius sets Eponine down now, he might actually just hurt her or drop her, and his fingers are starting to go numb, so he simply steps to the side. She lets out a whine of sudden terror, wondering if she’ll be able to recover from a fractured spine, and shouts his name, loudly, even as her free leg kicks out to try and find something to steady herself against.

And it would be _fine,_ if Cosette and Grantaire hadn’t climbed back in through the kitchen window, accidentally knocking into Marius, who tumbles, Eponine and Cosette both falling on top of him with a loud, painful _thud._

Grantaire rushes to help them up, and he’s pulled Cosette and Eponine both up, brushing them off, before turning his attention to Marius as the girls check one another over for bruises.

He’s pulling Marius up when he hears someone shouting something about _having sex with Mary Kate,_ and then he’s dropping Marius and sprinting towards the voice. Marius shrieks, and Cosette and Eponine both reach for him, just as the front door opens, Feuilly and Musichetta walking inside with empty beer bottles and smelling of cigarette smoke.

And Grantaire would be fine, too, if it wasn’t for the bathroom door being flung open, knocking Combeferre back. When Combeferre falls, he lands against Enjolras’ legs, and Enjolras nearly tumbles to the floor—but none of that is anything compared to Courfeyrac  throwing himself out of the bathroom.

Because Courfeyrac trips over Combeferre and into Enjolras, who falls back just as Grantaire is running past, and all four of them land on the floor in a shouting, grunting, fumbling mess.

“No one is having sex!” Mary Kate shouts, and on the floor, Enjolras covers his face with both hands.

\------

“Do you need help getting everything into the car?” Enjolras asks, for about the thousandth time, and Grantaire doesn’t even bother telling him no. Instead, he merely takes Enjolras’ face in both hands and kisses him thoroughly, with lots of teeth and tongue, the kind of kiss that properly shuts someone up and stops them from asking the same question yet again.

“We,” he promises, “are fine. Besides, you should go and check on Marius again. Apologize to him for me one more time?” he asks, and Enjolras simply nods, kissing him again.

They’d ended the night in the hospital—Marius has a broken wrist and his shoulder had been dislocated, Enjolras has a bruised tailbone, and Grantaire’s mostly fine, even though he’s insisting to anyone who will listen that he’s lost about six years off of his life span at the very thought of Bahorel having sex with his baby sister. Not that he doesn’t love Bahorel, mind—if Mary Kate’s going to hook up with any of his friends, Grantaire would pick Bahorel for her any day—but because he’s still having a hard time getting used to the idea that Mary Kate’s going to be on her own in a matter of days, and _baby steps, kiddo, don’t give me a heart attack just yet._

Mary Kate and Grantaire are leaving now, driving down to New Hampshire. He’s going to get her settled in at her dorm room, help her move things in and go shopping for anything she needs, and then head back home. It’s sweet, even though everyone’s tearing up at sending Mary Kate to school; they’re saying their goodbyes now, as Mary Kate flings her backpack into the car and slams the door shut before throwing herself at Cosette and Eponine.

Marius is inside, on the couch, sleeping—the painkillers he got are _good_ —but everyone else is standing outside the apartment building to give Mary Kate a proper farewell. There are hugs and kisses all around, even from Bahorel, who looks nervously at Grantaire before slinging an arm around Mary Kate and kissing her hair. Mary Kate responds by grabbing the front of Bahorel’s shirt and kissing him full on the mouth, much like Enjolras and Grantaire had just been kissing, before winking.

“When I get back, you’re teaching me the rest of the twist and shout,” she says dramatically before waving.

Grantaire sighs but kisses Enjolras goodbye one more time before reaching for Mary Kate. “Ready, kiddo?” he asks, but before he can finish, Mary Kate throws herself at Enjolras, hugging him as tightly as she possibly can.

They stand like that for a few moments, neither of them moving once Enjolras has returned the embrace with equal ferocity, and when she stands back her eyes are suspiciously shiny and her lips are curled up in a smile.

“Thanks,” she says finally, and no one comments on how watery her voice is.  “You’re all family, pretty much. So. Thanks. Really. For everything.”

With that, she climbs into the car, Grantaire waving and following suit a few seconds later, and when they drive away, the sound of Mary Kate’s favorite Janet Jackson album audible even from outside the car and a block away, it’s almost sad. Almost.

Because it’s still the beginning of an adventure, for all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooly shit. Two years ago, two years to the DAY, I posted the very first installment of Talk Revolution To Me, Baby, and it's been a whirlwind ever since. This fandom has introduced me to some of my closest friends, this fandom has made me a better writer and a better person, and this fandom has brought me into touch with a story that makes me really, truly, genuinely happy. And this fic has been a huge part of it.
> 
> A few frequently asked questions:
> 
> 1) Is TRTMB over? - no, absolutely not. This story isn't anywhere near over. I'm not done with these muses, and these muses aren't done with me.  
> 2) Is there some kind of timeline to reference? - no lol but if I ever make one, you'll be the first to know.  
> 3) How often will you post updates? - Whenever I can, to be honest. I've got one semester of undergrad left, and so that, and my thesis, are going to take up most of my time. But I honestly do think you'll be able to expect updates more frequently than you've gotten them over the past year and a half.
> 
> But, because of the significance of today's date, you can expect a lot of TRTMB over the next week. Nothing too exciting--playlists, mostly, or edits, or headcanons, whatever. Doesn't much matter, but there will be plenty.
> 
> Many thanks to the beautiful Lily (astrid_fischer) and Marta (yallaintright) for betaing this for me, and for being as excited about coming back to this as I've been. And many thanks to every person still reading this. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you.
> 
> (And just for funsies--here's the playlist I was listening to while working on this: http://8tracks.com/opheliacs/satan-france-and-the-eighties )
> 
> Find me on tumblr at susanspevensie (my personal), and, because I'm a giant nerd, my new Cosette RP blog, found at alaxdidae.
> 
> <333


End file.
